I’m never, ever, ever, going to leave Lennox. Ever. I may gain 500 pounds and have to be lifted out by crane but that is the only leaving scenario I can possibly imagine. Maybe these are dramatic premature statements but I really, really like Lime Café I don’t really want the secret to get out… but may even L-word it… time will tell.
My reasons? First, the chalkboard sign announcing: “Brunch Served All Day.” Then, a brunch menu that prominently features such lovely things! There is toasted, butter-dripping banana bread dusted with cinnamon sugar, ice cream topped pancakes, and poached eggs on a stack of five, (I’m not exaggerating here) thick European-style pieces of bacon and avocado salsa spread across thick toast. Alicia and I feel pretty strongly about poached eggs so we tried them every way they come at Lime. And we took photos.
Besides great food, Lime Cafe offers the opportunity to play a great mealtime game: spot the owner smile. Lime is tiny; there are about four tables in the indoor seating area, a cashier, and a direct view into the majority of the Kitchen. The owner/master chef is a visible presence in the cafe. Alicia and I and spend about 2 hours eating and drinking coffee every morning, and every morning we go to Lime Cafe. Every morning the owner’s dark green eyes upraise us and her lips turn downward while we order and sit down. Every morning I smile hopefully at that pot-bellied brunette ice queen as she stomps around flipping pancakes, and make small chat with the surf-chick coffee barista who began recognizing us after our second trip to Lime in one day. I can’t get Lime-matron to speak to us! Hard as I try I also can’t figure out the rhyme and reason of her select conversations. She occasionally brightens, shows a gappy smile, and says something to a chosen one like, “I already have your gluten free muffin ready.” What is going on here? What a strange thing to say anyway! Is it possible that the chef who can make fruit bread and carrot cake that makes me feel at peace with the potential of plus size clothing is happy and proud to have set aside a dense slimy muffin? Maybe she angry with all gluten-eaters in general? Does she or does she not eat gluten? Maybe she’s just lacking healthy doses of gluten-glee!? Maybe she hates red heads!? Alright, Now I’m getting paranoid.
Everyone else in Lennox, actually in Australia as I have experienced it, is outstandingly friendly. On our first day in town, for example, we made friends with the creepy and likely stoned, leather-skinned old surfer dude who runs the organic vegetable market. Every morning he says, “DC, San Francisco! Boring home towns,” and then chats with us for a few awkward minutes over our coffee. There is also the woman at the sushi shop who practically ate lunch with us she was so involved in our conversation. Rather, she held up the entire conversation with her chat about “beautiful,” all natural granola grown at a nearby farm she thought we should visit. Come to think of it, what are all of these people doing? Who are these hippies with an odd obsession with eating eggs and bacon!? All I can say is, Lennox has mastered the art of poached eggs and possibly banana bread, but I’m trying the bread again–purely professional, just to be sure.